The Alpha's Concubine (Historical Shifter Romance) (21 page)

It was not just a night of lovemaking, though, and while the five of them rested Netya tried to teach the males a few words of her own language, while they in turn coaxed her into saying things that brought them great mirth, and which Fern teasingly refused to translate for her. She was glad to make them laugh. It had been many weeks since she enjoyed sitting up with a group of companions her age as she lost herself in silly, pointless talk. All other thoughts were forgotten as the night passed by, good humour and companionship interspersed with deeply satisfying pleasure as she slipped in and out of intimate embraces. Even when her body finally began to protest and the space within her ached, she still allowed herself to be taken by her partners several more times before the sun peeked over the horizon. After all, it was only for one night.

Her exhaustion became a heavy tingle that weighed upon her body in all of the most satisfying ways, and it was a bittersweet ending to the celebration when their fire finally collapsed into coals and the first chilly brush of morning wind caressed her skin. The night spirits that had seemed thick in the air drifted away along with the sweet scent of the fires, and at the light of dawn the camp returned from its otherworldly journey back to its place of origin on the earthen plains.

Tired and spent, Netya curled up beside the dying fire as Fern wrapped a warm bearskin around them. Though she was sad to see them go, she returned from the embrace of the summer fires with their warmth still burning within her.

The girl hiding beneath Netya's skin had awoken, and that girl belonged with the Moon People.

—
17—

The Storm

So preoccupied was Netya with her newfound sense of self among the pack that she spared little thought for the future in the weeks that followed. It had been a long, exhilarating summer, full of discovery and the kind of adventure she had never truly believed she would experience back home in the village. Even the word
home
seemed strange to her now. When she was out in the wilderness she thought of home as the tent she shared with Fern. It was the warmth and safety of the outcrop, and the strong pack who lived there.

She did not worry herself over the things that might happen months or years from now, instead enjoying the freedom of her youth as she blossomed into the woman she felt she had always been destined to be. The more she learned of the Moon People's language the closer she became with them, and before long she considered the small group she had spent the night of the summer fires with her friends. Erech in particular seemed very fond of her, and despite barely being able to communicate with Netya he often spent long afternoons by her side, teaching her how to snare fish in the river or allowing her to ride on his wolf's back as he showed her the more remote and dangerous paths through the surrounding land. The young man respected that she was his alpha's female, however, and not once did he try to entice her into his bed, though the desire in his eyes was sometimes plain to see.

The day after the celebration Netya and Fern had attempted to coax Liyanthe into sharing the details of her night with Caspian, but the girl was so shy all she could do was blush and smile. The longing looks she sent his way spoke volumes on their own, but Netya was still desperately curious, and more than a little jealous every time she and the other girl crossed paths.

But she had no reason to be jealous, she reminded herself often. Khelt still took her to his bed and left her exhaustingly satisfied every few nights, and sometimes even during the days when his time was unoccupied. And yet, he was still the alpha. As the weeks passed she could not shake the feeling that the man whose bed she shared was a leader first and a lover second. It was not that their couplings lacked intimacy. Khelt was as wild and free as the wolf within him during their lovemaking, and when they spoke before and afterwards he always seemed honest and direct with her. In many ways he was the only person besides Fern that she felt able to speak with about almost anything. She would wake some mornings to see him watching her with a wistful look on his face, only for it to vanish a moment later as the steel of the alpha returned to his eyes. He was happy to have her in his bed or on his lap by the fire, but he had never spent an afternoon teaching her how to fish, or wandering the meadows at her side without point or purpose.

Netya reminded herself to be happy she had been claimed by such a man. In many ways it was as much and more than she had ever wanted, and yet still something seemed beyond her reach. She did not understand what it was, but in those brief moments she caught him watching her in the mornings, it almost felt close enough for her to reach out and grasp it.

She tried her best to forget about the bag of herbs Adel had given her, preferring to pretend that it had never happened. Without the temptation she had nothing to feel guilty about, and her worries about bearing the alpha's child were something she could push away into the distant future. It had not happened yet, and that was enough to keep her content.

The bag stashed in its hiding place had almost slipped her mind completely by the time the rains came. She and Fern spent all day rearranging their tent in preparation for the wet season, chipping fresh logs from the northern forests into pointed stakes that could be driven into the ground to suspend hammocks from. The hammocks themselves were something Netya had never seen before, and she watched in fascination as Fern showed her how they laced long, sturdy strips of animal hide together in a cross-hatched pattern that could be unfastened and stored away again once the rainy season passed.

They banked their fire up on a platform of stones and tied together new racks of sticks to keep their belongings off the ground in the case of water seeping in. If the weather became too bad they would retreat to one of the earth lodges or the communal winter caves, Fern said, but she and Netya were in agreement that they would rather keep their private space if they could. Sharing a dwelling with someone like Vaya and her snide hunting companions for weeks on end was not a prospect Netya relished.

"Will you take these back to the seers for me?" Fern said as she took a pair of pouches from one of her racks and handed them to the other girl. "We do not use them often, and they will only spoil in the damp."

Netya accepted the bags of dried medicine and stepped out of the tent, pausing as she was finally reminded of the other precious bag in her possession. She glanced over in the direction of the rocks where she had stashed it, curling her toes into the grass as she worked her jaw back and forth in contemplation. If she left it there it would likely spoil too in the damp weather. But what did that matter? She had not used any of the herbs. She would rather forget they existed entirely. Surely it would be better to leave them there so that the temptation was gone for good? It was already far too late for her to give the bag back to the seers without questions being asked. And yet...

She took a step toward the hiding place, then paused as she remembered where the herbs had come from. This was what Adel wanted her to do. There was poison buried in the temptation somewhere. Whether it was simply that she wanted to deny Khelt an heir, or something more sinister Netya had yet to comprehend, she did not want to play into the den mother's schemes.

Shoring up her resolve, she turned her back on the rocks and walked away.

Despite all of their preparations, the rains came on so hard and so suddenly that Fern and Netya did not even have time to return to their tent before the sudden deluge had swept across the camp and extinguished the central fire. Those who had dwellings nearby scurried back to their own abodes, while those who lived further up the outcrop were ushered into the earth lodges big enough to accommodate them. Netya and Fern ended up packed in with the food stores and the wrinkled old woman who rationed them, listening to her mutter and curse under her breath as she squinted out at the downpour.

"The others will be soaked," Fern said, referring to the men who had been out checking the edges of the outcrop for signs of wear, where exposed earth parched by the summer sun might be washed away in the wet season.

Netya's thoughts could not be distracted by the thought of a few sodden wolves, however. As she sat in the lodge's entrance chewing her lip, all she could think about was the bag of herbs jammed into the crack in the rock. If they were not soaked through already, they would be by the time the rain passed.

A crack of lightning split the air, and the old woman yelped in alarm, leaping into the shape of her wolf with more agility than her age should have allowed, before scurrying to the back of the lodge and curling into a ball.

"And the sky is restless tonight," Fern said anxiously.

Netya rocked back and forth in agitation, no less unnerved by the storm, but even more concerned about the hidden bag than she had been before. Lightning was rarely a good omen. For a crazed moment she wondered whether perhaps Adel herself had called the storm to test her resolve. That was foolish. No shaman or witch could do such things.

But whether or not she intended to use the herbs, once more she found herself unwilling to let the choice slip through her fingers. She did not want to wait passively, as she had done her entire life in the village, waiting for fate to carry her in whatever direction it pleased. Even if it meant playing into Adel's hands, at least she would be doing it of her own accord.

"Wait for me, I will be back soon," she said, and before Fern could question her or protest Netya jumped to her feet and ran out into the deluge. Her friend's calls were swallowed up by the rushing sound of the rain a moment later as she hurried as fast as she could up the muddying path to their tent.

The wet season in the forests had been bad, but here it seemed a truly wild force of nature. Sharp droplets stung her face as the wind whipped sheets of rain across the exposed outcrop. Within moments the dark clouds had transformed early dusk into blue midnight, and another flash of lightning blinded her before its distant echo rumbled across the plains a few seconds later.

Netya's clothes had almost soaked through already. Her braid tugged heavily at her scalp as water weighed it down. If she was not careful, she might easily lose her footing on the steep slope where she had hidden the herbs.

But Netya's mind was set, and even the frightening crash of thunder could not dissuade her as she clambered around the rocks and hurried past her tent. She squinted through the rain, trying to place where she had hidden the bag. The edge of the outcrop looked even more treacherous as water rushed through the grass in miniature torrents, running off the slick rocks and dribbling down from the overhang where the ground ended.

Netya's eyes widened. There had been no overhang the last time she passed this way. A piece of the ground had already peeled away under the weight of the sudden rain seeping into it, exposing more of the raw stone beneath the soil. Even as she watched another muddy sliver of earth detached itself from the edge, the cracked ground splitting off piece by piece like twigs of kindling under an axe.

She crept toward the rock where she had hidden the bag with renewed care, testing the ground gingerly with each step before twining her bare toes into the grass for support. If her feet went out from under her she would go straight off the edge, and it was a steep, rocky descent to the bottom.

The smaller stone she had jammed in to conceal the bag was still lodged firmly in its crack, and with a little tugging it slipped free and tumbled down the slope, clacking off the exposed stone as it fell. She thought she heard something else, a distant groan on the wind, as if the storm itself was howling at her. Stuffing her hand into the opening, her fingers closed around the dry bulge of animal hide, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Only a small trickle of water had reached it so far, and the contents were likely unspoilt.

Netya tucked the bag into her clothing, making sure it rested in the driest spot possible close to her stomach, then began edging her way back up the unstable slope. The lightning flashed again, and before the sound of its arrival drowned out everything else another howling voice filled Netya's ears for a fraction of a second. She paused, peering at the edge of the overhang. Was it the spirits of nature howling at her, or had the voice belonged to a person? She did not want to stay out in the downpour a moment longer than she had to, but her curiosity got the better of her. Was she becoming too reckless these days?

Edging back to the overhang, she dropped to her hands and knees and found a stable spot from which to peer over. She saw the marks where fingers had clawed at the earth before anything else. A desperate hand had flailed for something sturdy to grip in this spot, and found only mud and loose turf to hang on to. Then she saw Erech's body sprawled half way down the slope below her. He was half-buried in soil and stone, and the puddle of water he lay in was clouded with blood.

"Erech!" she called, frozen in shock. She could not tell whether he heard her over the rain, or if he was even still alive. In her mind she pictured everything that had happened in an instant. Erech was not the type to patiently circle the outcrop to get out of the rain when he could quickly scale the side in half the time, regardless of how dangerous it might be by comparison.

His body moved, and another faint groan reached her ears on the wind. The glimmer of life snapped Netya out of her fear. Swinging a leg over the edge, she scrabbled her way down the slope as fast as she could, slipping and stumbling as a cascade of mud followed in the wake of her descent. A heavy lump of it spattered into her hair, sending her reeling off balance. Her knees hit the ground hard, sending a shock of pain through her lower body as she flailed for something to grab on to, tumbling over and over down the steep slope in a flurry of mud and water.